


Cut Off My Tongue For Just A Taste

by trashazaki



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Enemies With Benefits, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Trans Male Character, but like lowkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21931402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashazaki/pseuds/trashazaki
Summary: Sam knew he should've stopped this, but some annoying voice in the back of his mind didn't want it to stop. It held him in its stupid,stupidgrip.Like his thighs were currently in Higgs' stupid,stupidgrip.
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Higgs Monaghan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 244





	Cut Off My Tongue For Just A Taste

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly just shamelessly self-indulgent smut that ignores some details of canon (like Sam bruising at physical contact) because merry fucking holidays, this is a gift to myself
> 
> Title taken from "War In Your Bedroom" by A Change of Pace

How did this happen?

How the _fuck_ did this happen?

Sam knew he should've stopped this, but some annoying voice in the back of his mind didn't want it to stop. It held him in its stupid, _stupid_ grip.

Like his thighs were currently in Higgs' stupid, **_stupid_** grip.

Hell, he should've stopped whatever this was that he and the terrorist had going on a long ass time ago when it first started. Nipped it in the bud. But he didn't. It started slowly enough: Higgs would show up sometimes, annoy Sam, maybe trigger his aphenphosmphobia if he was feeling particularly dickish that day, then leave, sometimes summoning a catcher for laughs before he jumped. Then the physical contact became more constant. Higgs' touch sent shockwaves of mild panic through Sam. The hands on his shoulder, the back of his neck, the feeling of Higgs’ hood against his cheek as Higgs leaned in from behind and _way_ too close. Higgs had called it exposure therapy with that shit-eating grin on his face and his fingers creeping along Sam’s throat.

Sam knew Higgs was doing it just to get under his skin, reveling in the way the porter would jerk away (in the situations where he could; sometimes Higgs used his abilities to ensure Sam’s immobility.) Over time, Sam managed to control his flinching when Higgs touched him—he hated that Higgs was right about the exposure therapy in some sick way—but this only emboldened the terrorist. Where Sam had figured the lack of visible response would deter any further fuckery, it evolved from Higgs placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders to placing them on his hips, from Higgs moving his fingers along Sam’s neck to dipping them beneath the collar of Sam’s hood and undershirt (Sam had to acknowledge the doggedness of this, considering how his clothing was specifically designed to prevent anything getting under it.)

Higgs had eventually gotten daring (or annoying) enough to even kiss Sam, but never on the lips. Sam had felt Higgs’ lips on his cheek, his jaw, his ear. He hated every single moment of it, each point of contact sending jolts of anxiety through his entire body, but he didn’t stop Higgs after the first few times he swung a fist only for Higgs to jump out of reach and leave the porter stumbling from the momentum of his swing.

Those kisses and touches led to… other things. Sam knew that Higgs had somehow burrowed into his mind when he was waiting out the timefall in a cave with the upper half of his uniform open, and he didn’t even react when Higgs managed to locate him (as he always seemed to do) and apparate in front of him. Higgs’ masks were on, but Sam knew that he was looking him with such scrutiny that it made his skin tingle. He knew Higgs was looking at the muscle he had built up over the years of being a courier, the large cross-shaped scar on his stomach, the twin scars beneath his pecs, the handprints all over his torso, the smaller marks from healing wounds from bullet grazes. Higgs inched closer, and closer, and Sam scooted further, and further, but the uneven floor of the cave made it harder to get back, and Sam ended up with his back on the stone and Higgs looming over him. Higgs’ hands were on either side of Sam’s head, and Sam stared up at him, not quite able to make out the eyes behind the masks in the low light of the cave. Then, Higgs leaned in, and to Sam’s surprise, he didn’t touch him. He seemed almost _conscious_ of the distance between them as he moved close to Sam’s neck and inhaled deeply. Sam was surprised that Higgs could even smell him through two masks and his entire ego.

Allowing a horny terrorist to bury his face in your neck and dry hump you in a cave was added to Sam’s ever-growing list of things that he would’ve preferred to _not_ happen to him but was entirely too tired to give a shit about.

He refused to admit that he was beginning to not mind Higgs’ touch all that much. He was just trying to appease Higgs so he would leave him alone. That’s all this was. The fact that it became a nearly regular thing for Higgs to show up, mouth off, and end up with his hands in Sam’s pants really didn’t help Sam convince himself of that, though.

And especially not now, with Higgs between his legs, the cuff links currently offline so that it wouldn’t record audio. Sam didn’t make much noise or talk that much to begin with, but he was getting a little irritated with Higgs’ current inaction. Whether it was because he wanted Higgs out of his room or because he wanted Higgs to actually touch him was still up in the air.

“You gonna do something or are you just gonna keep sniffing at me like a fucking creep?” Sam grumbled, shifting slightly to try and keep his arms from falling asleep with how long he’d been propped up on his elbows.

Higgs chuckled a little. “You’re awfully impatient today, Sammy boy,” he answered. “Besides, I can’t help myself. You always smell so… _good_.”

Sam briefly thought about how he was near constantly covered in sweat and grime. “Yeah, I doubt that. Get on with it, Higgs.”

“Gettin’ bossy with me ain’t gonna make me go any faster, sweetheart.”

Regardless of his snide retort, Higgs pulled Sam’s thighs even further apart than they were already. Even though Sam had gotten mostly accustomed to physical contact from Higgs, being so vulnerable and specifically feeling Higgs’ grasp tighten even slightly caused a spike of nervousness to set Sam’s nerves on fire.

That was before he felt Higgs’ tongue on him, which set his nerves alight for an entirely different reason.

His legs jerked involuntarily as Higgs slowly dragged his tongue along him. He was certain that if Higgs wasn’t holding his legs open, he would’ve snapped his thighs closed from the near overwhelming feeling of it. Higgs stopped for a moment, and Sam felt Higgs shudder. He swore he heard a shaky “fuck” leave Higgs’ mouth.

Higgs dug his fingertips in a bit more as he licked at Sam again, pressing his tongue harder against the most sensitive part of the porter. He felt Sam’s thighs twitch yet again at the sensation.

“I swear you’d crush my skull if I let ya,” Higgs commented, patting the inside of Sam’s thigh a couple of times. “Feelin’ good, Sam?”

Sam didn’t respond verbally but instead made a gruff noise. Higgs drew his tongue along Sam as though he were savoring him, committing the taste and feeling of Sam on his tongue to memory. Which he probably was, if Sam had to take a guess.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat when Higgs finished off his next stroke by sucking slightly. On instinct, his hand moved to Higgs’ hair before he stopped himself, realizing what he was doing. Higgs laughed a little, taking a break from his previous work.

“You can grab my hair if you want to, Bridges,” he said. He let go of one of Sam’s thighs for a moment to grab Sam’s hand and lead it back to where it was reaching just a moment ago. Before Sam could pull his hand away again, Higgs went back to licking and sucking at that specific spot where he knew he could draw the biggest reaction out of Sam. Sam’s breath hitched again, and he tightened his grip in Higgs’ hair, tugging a little at the dark locks. A low moan came from Higgs and it only served to make that feeling building in Sam’s gut spike.

Fuck it.

Sam rolled his hips a little, still grabbing tightly at Higgs’ hair to hold him in place. Higgs moaned again, much louder than the first time. They hadn’t been doing this for very long, but Sam was already nearing his peak, no doubt from his oversensitivity. He grinded against Higgs’ tongue just a bit more, a bit faster, a bit harder, grabbing at the back of Higgs’ head with one hand and grabbing at the sheets with the other, until—

Sam let out a throaty groan as his hips twitched and his body shook slightly with his orgasm, riding it out with Higgs continuing to lick at him. After several moments, he stopped moving, letting go of Higgs’ hair as he began to come down from his high.

He hadn’t even notice that Higgs moved his hand down to take care of himself as well. What he _did_ notice, however, was the fact that Higgs was continuing to lick Sam as he jerked off, and it felt like lightning running through his body, except in one of the worst possible ways. It was entirely too much and he needed it to stop.

Sam jerked his hips back, releasing the breath he hadn’t known he was holding in his throat. “Higgs,” he groaned, the feeling of pleasure having shifted to pain already. Higgs didn’t even seem to notice anything Sam was doing or saying, just chasing his own orgasm. “ _Higgs_ ,” Sam commanded in a near growl, this time grabbing Higgs’ hair and jerking his head back hard to pull him off.

That seemed to be enough to send Higgs over his own edge, and Higgs swore loudly as he came. After a few seconds, Sam let go of Higgs and scooted back, closing his legs as Higgs leaned back and tried to catch his breath. Higgs gave a breathy laugh, face red and with a dumb grin on his face.

Sam hated his stupid fucking face. Why did he let Higgs do this again?

“Mmm, we shoulda done that sooner, Sammy boy,” Higgs drawled. “Haven’t had that much fun since—”

“I don’t wanna know. Leave.”

Higgs straightened himself up, fixing his clothes and hair and flipping his hood back up. “Your wish is my command, darlin’.” He gave a dramatic bow. “Don’t hesitate to call upon me again.” With that, Higgs jumped, leaving Sam alone in the room with nothing but the chiral dust from the teleportation making his eyes water.

“I never called on you in the first place, you fucking bastard,” Sam grumbled as he stood from the bed and made his way towards the shower.

He certainly felt like he needed a long and thorough one after that encounter.

**Author's Note:**

> This might've seemed weirdly written because I don't write porn often enough and was trying not to use words that would trigger my dysphoria so like yeehaw


End file.
